Exposed
by Lemonzest023
Summary: Spoilers for Last Jedi. When Kylo loses control of his emotions he also loses control of his connection to Rey, and sometimes she turns up unannounced.


Kylo Ren sat in his quarters, his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands. He spent a lot of his time doing this very thing as of late, sometimes screaming, sometimes shouting, sometimes biting back tears.

He hated it. He was unraveling, struggling to stay focused on the simplest of tasks, letting his mind and emotions wander. He could feel her watching him sometimes. He couldn't keep her out when he was like this. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Sometimes it was a comfort. He knew that they had a connection. If they both focused their minds it became so easy to see, so easy to reach out and touch one another, if they wanted. It should also have been easy to keep his distance, to ignore the tendrils of the Force that pulled at his temples signaling her presence, but he was losing his hold on the door that could shut her out.

When his emotions became unchecked, he became exposed.

The first time he realized this was mere days after his abysmal defeat. He had nightmares. It was fine, nothing he wasn't already used to, but upon waking he had the distinct feeling that someone was there, watching him as he bolted upright, gasping for air like a drowning man.

He searched the room frantically, his hand outstretched and prepared to force choke anyone stupid enough to break into his quarters, anyone who might have seen him at his most vulnerable.

But there was no one there.

He pressed his palms against his eyes and grimaced when he realized that they were wet with tears. He'd dreamed of his mother. He'd dreamed of ending her life.

* * *

The following night was even worse somehow. He was angry, always so _angry_ , full of rage and shame that he was burning from the inside out. He couldn't stop himself from destroying everything in sight. He dropped to his knees and screamed until his voice was hoarse. He destroyed a nearby chair in the corner, the metal crushed and bent in upon itself, and he shattered all of the lights overhead. He slammed his fist on the ground and he could feel the energy of it reverberating off the walls of his chambers. The only sound in the room after that were of his breaths, sharp and rhythmic as he bowed his head in the darkness.

He could feel her then. She was standing just behind him. He could sense her delicate hand hovering over his shoulder, hesitant to move.

"Why are you here?" he asked, and he felt her startle. "I know that you are. I can feel it."

He couldn't hear her over the sound of his own labored breathing but he knew that she was there. He _knew_. But there was only silence.

* * *

Four nights had passed without incident and he began to wonder if he'd imagined it all. His emotions remained fairly in check, with the occasional outburst in the form of grabbing Hux by his perfectly pressed lapels and putting the fear back into his eyes. It would only last a few hours before he'd have to do it again, a tedious task at best. Hux was growing more resilient and much more impatient as time continued to pass. He was anxious to coordinate and implement new plans to destroy the Resistance and he often mused aloud about what a waste it had been for Kylo to have been so distracted while the remaining forces were allowed to escape.

Kylo pretended that he didn't hear him, though he acknowledged that he was absolutely right.

He could feel a dull ache beginning to form in his chest and he excused himself back to his quarters. He needed to be alone. He needed to breathe.

He'd barely managed to get through the doorway before he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He clenched his fists together, pacing the room a few times before deciding to sit down on the chair he'd just replaced. He propped his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands.

"It's not too late."

Her voice visibly startled him and he could feel himself flush in embarassment. He shook his head and rubbed circles over his temples with gloved fingertips.

"It is," he replied without lifting his face to meet hers.

"I've seen your future," she said softly. She sounded closer now. "I can feel it."

" _Stop_ ," he hissed, finally raising his eyes to meet hers.

"Look at you," she whispered, her brows knitting together. "There's so much conflict in you. It's written all over your face, anyone could see it." He couldn't help but grimace.

"Rey," he replied uneasily, the shape of her name still new to his lips. "Please leave me." Her lip quivered as she stared into his eyes. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. He felt trapped in this moment, and he couldn't sever their connection. " _Please_ ," he repeated, and she was gone.

* * *

He was unsure how much time had passed since their last interaction. He thought that he could still feel her presence sometimes, a prickle at the back of his neck when he became particularly emotional, but he couldn't be entirely sure. He'd been keeping his head down, trying to stay focused. Trying not to murder Hux.

Sleep came easily to him that night. He felt pleasantly exhausted after his combat training. It reminded him of his battle with Snoke's guards. It reminded him of Rey.

He could see her now, in his dreams. He smiled at her outstretched hand and he took it. It was warm and small in his own, and she smiled too. They would rule the galaxy together.

She stepped closer then, into his space. He looked down at her, so small yet so fierce, and he admired her so much. His eyes fell to her lips, soft and pink, and she moved even closer still.

He awoke with a start as he often did, though he managed to keep himself from bolting upright this time. His heart was pounding and he felt too hot, curled up onto his side. He took a few deep breaths through his nose and tried to settle back into slumber, but thanks to the sudden state of his body, sleep was eluding him.

He licked his lips and stared into the darkness in front of him. This couldn't be happening to him. This never happens to him.

He slowly moved to roll onto his stomach but the drag of his sleep pants against his skin drew out a gasp that caught him by surprise. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, trying not to focus on it, but it was of no use. The more he tried to ignore it, the more urgent it became. He was suddenly, bewilderingly, achingly hard.

He couldn't remember the last time it had happened. He was always too busy, too focused on his training for anything else. It felt foreign and wrong, and he didn't know what to do.

After a few moments of careful consideration he slowly and deliberately pressed his hips into the mattress to try and relieve some of the pressure. A quiet whimper tore through him and he grabbed the sheets tightly in his fists.

Rey. He was thinking of Rey. His eyes flew open at the thought and he immediately tried to suppress it. Why had his mind and body both decided to betray him? He rocked his hips forward without entirely meaning to, but as he continued to do so he became less concerned about whether or not he should.

He buried his face into the pillow feeling ridiculous and ashamed. He was a grown man, beyond all this, yet there he stayed, grinding himself against the mattress. He could feel his cheeks heating up and the throbbing persisted, and with a defeated sigh he finally turned onto his side and reached a hand under the blanket to palm himself through his pants.

He let out a shaky breath at the sensation and began to relax as he lazily dragged his hand over the stiff outline of his length. His lips parted with a quiet moan, and he felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck.

His eyes shot open and he froze. He couldn't see her but he was sure that he could feel her presence. She was somewhere across the room behind him. He didn't think he was making it up. He was certain of it.

He'd been certain of a lot of things in his life. That didn't always pan out.

He could feel the steady throbbing beneath his palm and he let his eyes fall shut once more. Perhaps he was imagining things. He could hear nothing, but he wasn't about to reach for her through the Force, not while he was lying in bed, curled in on himself with his hand between his legs.

He released a ragged breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding and his shoulders slowly began to relax. He rolled his hips foward and pressed his lips together in a firm line, relishing the way it felt. He was teasing himself, he realized, and he felt himself blush.

Sucking his lower lip into his mouth and biting down, he finally reached his hand up and under the waistband of his sleeping pants. He took a quick breath through his nose and wrapped his fingers around his cock, and he gave it a long, slow stroke.

His mouth fell open and he nuzzled the side of his face into the pillow, his free hand now gripping the edge of it tightly. He was surprised at how good it felt and how long it'd been since he'd last even considered touching himself like this. Since he last wanted to.

He pressed his hips forward again, sighing at the gentle slide of his full length moving past his fingers as he slowly drew back again. He was going to savor this. He gave himself an experimental squeeze before running his thumb along the head, spreading the moisture that had gathered there. The movement made his muscles twitch and he bit his lip to stifle a moan.

He knew that this was a bad idea but he was too far gone to care. He knew that he wouldn't be able to contain himself, to contain his emotions and block himself off. But he kept going, rocking his hips back and forth, fucking his hand at a pace that was excruciatingly slow. The familiar sensation was stronger now, very real and very present behind him. He knew he wasn't making it up. He shouldn't have doubted himself.

Something about that knowledge sent an unexpected wave of pleasure through him. He knew he was being watched, and yet...

And yet.

The gasp he released was so loud in the silence of the room that it sounded like thunder in his ears. His quick breaths cut through the quiet air in sharp staccato and he had no intention of holding them back.

Feeling bold, he let his hand drag along his length and down between his legs so that he could fondle himself. He hissed and kneaded the sheets in his free hand as he did so, arching his back ever so slightly.

He could feel her presence moving closer. He felt no anger or confusion. There was no disgust. He wasn't sure what was running through her mind, but it didn't matter much once he took his cock back in hand.

The need for release was becoming more urgent by the second. He could feel her making her way slowly past the foot of the bed, coming around to face him. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, refusing to look at her, refusing to even acknowledge her.

He squeezed himself tighter and began stroking in earnest. He abandoned the long and languid motions for short, quick jerks of his hand, and he pressed his face against the pillow once more.

Why was he doing this? He knew what he must look like. His dark hair had fallen in front of his eyes. His cheeks and neck were stained red and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. He looked open and vulnerable and troubled all at once, still curled up so small on his side, his hand tangled in the bedding. His breaths had grown deeper, louder, and he chewed at his lower lip. He was so close.

She was watching him now, kneeling in front of the bed. She could only be an arm's length away. The thought of it sent a whimper ripping through his throat without permission, but once it escaped he could no longer hold them back.

He was barely aware of the sounds he was making, hissing and moaning as he chased his release. He was _so close_.

Her hand was hovering over his shoulder now, and he wondered if she was going to touch him. The mere thought of hit left him shaking and he bit down hard on his lip.

He came with a loud groan and slowed his strokes, milking every last drop, letting it slide over his fingers and across his abdomen. He sagged down into the mattress, thoroughly spent and trying his best to catch his breath, still shuddering through the aftershocks. He felt sticky and hot but unbelievably tired. His mind was too foggy to sense whether she was still in front of him or not, and before he knew it he was falling asleep.

He dreamed of Rey.


End file.
